


the garden i grew for you

by loonaloves



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, and so does kahei, haseul finds her source of happiness, i didn't mean to make it so long it just happened SORRY, just maybe not in the same way, kinda cute though uwu, merry christmas or happy holidays or have a nice day if u don't celebrate, my first time writing hanahaki pls go easy on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonaloves/pseuds/loonaloves
Summary: the petals haseul coughed up looked awfully similar to the ones she planted for kahei.





	the garden i grew for you

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas/happy holidays/if u don't celebrate i hope u enjoy this little gift thank

It was ice cold in the winter air, the air that swirled unforgivingly with the weather of the sky, the crystallized tears of the clouds that always melted upon Haseul's welcoming hands. And while anybody else would have complained about the unfortunate weather, Haseul had wished for this moment all year. She smiled and let out a breathy laugh, watching it turn into fog in the air.

She loved the feeling of the tiny, freezing particles taking shelter into her hands that seemed warm against the surrounding atmosphere. One week before the year finally ends, the weather agreed with Haseul's yearning desire. Growing up, she never was let into the open world, never allowed to explore and see, for her mother, too afraid of the harms of the outside, expressed her love in the contradictory way of expelling Haseul's freedom. She loved her far too much to see her get hurt by the remorseless world.

So, obediently, Haseul obliged. She stayed in her room, locked away from the people, the knowledge, the environment every other child grew familiar with and completely aware of. She never dared to denounce her mother, never dreamed of demolishing her fragile heart. Even if she was strict, Haseul loved her endlessly. Instead, she found her own access to knowledge.

Everyday, Haseul woke up to the joys of a book, one to read beginning to end and smile at and cry to, one that her mother might have recommended to her. And when she finished one, she'd move onto another. Sometimes she'd even reread a book, if it was that good. She went to sleep reading and woke up reading, ate with an open book by her side, and drew knowledge from each sentence she'd read. Her mother could clearly discern Haseul's interest, always buying her more and more books to add to the already large collection. She wanted nothing more than to make her only daughter- only child- happy. She knew how unloving anybody else could be. She would never let Haseul feel that way- she made a promise to herself. In a world full of hate, she should be full of love.

But, when Haseul grew older, she quickly realized the eccentricity of the fact that not once in her sixteen years of life, had she stepped foot outside of the house. Haseul wasn't raised to hold her concern, so it was an immediate decision to voice it, politely so, to let her mother know how odd this behavior is. And to grow up thinking it was normal?

In which there came an agreement: on Haseul's eighteenth birthday, she would be allowed out of the house, to do anything she wishes. But still, her mother hadn't mustered the courage to tell her about the cruelness of what the Earth's human inhabitants, the composition of whatever evil there had been and is currently in this world. She knew her daughter's heart was too golden to be broken, far too malleable to shatter. She knew Haseul would meet the right people. She carried faith in that.

And, so far, Haseul has still yet to meet anybody. She's been too fearful of sociality, so she had only ever used the newfound privilege to walk on the scratchy grass of her backyard. In the winter, though, Haseul's mother bought her the proper gear, hopeful of preventing any illness or cold she possibly could. Haseul admired her dear mother's precautions, knowing that she loved Haseul too much to watch her through sickness.

So, as the snow crushed under Haseul's heavy boots, she smiled. She's always wanted to see snow, always wanted to feel it's fluffiness and see if it's as magical as it seemed in the books. And really, it is. It truly is.

Haseul's mom watched fervently through the window, smiling warmly at the beautiful feeling in her chest emerging at Haseul's unfiltered happiness. She enjoyed it so much, seeing her daughter so joyful. She couldn't have asked for a better child, she's been grateful and aware of this fact since she first laid eyes on her, her beautiful baby. She loved seeing Haseul flourish, loved seeing her so comfortable with such new surroundings. She thought for a split second, that maybe this entire time she's been doing it wrong. That Haseul should have been given this enjoyment years ago, and that she had been maternally selfish. She never wanted to see that smile wipe off of her face.

She placed her hands onto her chest, feeling her beating heart. Ever since she found out she was pregnant with Haseul, she fell in love with her. Even if she was the cause of who was supposed to be Haseul's father leaving her- there is no truer love than that of a mother and her child. Beautifully so, tragically so. Even as her youth started to wither, she always felt as young as she was when she first truly met Haseul.

It was hard to think that one day they would have to part, one way or another. For her mother's skin wasn't as youthful as it used to be, her hair not as colorful, movements not as quick. But as her palms were placed upon her beating heart, she knew better than to mourn the future, rather, she began treasuring the present.

She lived each day loving Haseul even more, lived each day hoping for Haseul's heart to never break.

Haseul wished she could fathom the amount of joy she felt to her mother. Wished she could express it. She wanted to tell her how much she loved her, but that kind of stuff doesn't roll off the tongue. Rather, it is expressed magnificently through the enormous smile plastered onto her face as she looked through the window, waving excitedly to her mother. She couldn't thank her enough. Couldn't say enough.

She looked up at the sky, squinting at the slight stinging when a snowflake fell into her eye, but giggling at the feeling. She's never felt so giddy in her life. She quickly bent down to grab a handful of snow, shaping it to the best of her ability into a sphere. She enjoyed the ice cold feeling left on her hands as it rolled in her palms, leaving her hands wet and numb. She placed the sphere down gently, as if it were alive and she could hurt it, onto the ground and shook her hands, wiping them on her jacket.

She twirled, ran, laughed, even fell a few times, but it was so okay, she's never been so alive. She walked along the snow until the day transitioned to night, the snow shining under the moon's light, gleaming like pearls under fluorescent light, when she finally went inside, shivering, but still gleeful.

"My beautiful Haseul," her mother cooed, resting her hands in Haseul's. It felt nice against Haseul's cold skin.

"Mom," she laughed in response, tightening her hands around her mother's. And they stood there, doing nothing but looking at each other for longer than Haseul could count, but she wasn't going to complain.

When silence felt like it no longer provided the necessary mood, Haseul's mother began, "You've never been happier."

Haseul nodded. "Yes," she agreed.

"I love you so very much."

Haseul giggled, "I love you too, Mom."

"You like the snow?" It was an obvious question, but it slipped out of her mother's mouth nonetheless.

"Of course," Haseul answered. "So much better than the burning sun of summer and the falling leaves of autumn."

Haseul's mother released Haseul from her hands, moving towards the counter.

"I made you tea," she informed Haseul.

"Thank you," Haseul gratefully responded, taking the cup into her hands and sighing at the warmth. "But I'm not thirsty. I'm actually kind of tired."

Her mother only laughed, "Don't be silly. Drink up and then go to bed. I want you to be warm."

Haseul nodded and took small sips until the cup was empty, sliding it over towards her mother for her to wash it. Slowly, she dragged herself up the stairs and towards her bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind her.

With a sudden smile creeping onto her face, she took out the book she most recently found, one she saw on the highest shelf of her mother's bookcase. She must've hid it so high so that Haseul wouldn't be tempted by its descriptions of nature to leave the house and explore the outside, but that was just what Haseul thought. She let her fingers slide against the words printed onto the page, the paper's texture smooth and had a glossy look to it. The pages were larger than normal book pages, more square than rectangular. There were pictures in this, cute depictions of what the text of the story held. She loved it in contrast to the thousands of other pages she's read that gave no visual aid. It was nice to see what the author imagined happening as the story progressed instead of seeing it in her own imagination.

Her fingers closed the thick book and found their way to discover the title. Haseul laughed as she read it, thinking it was a rather funny name, yet cute, as well. She's never read a book about real life before.

_How to Garden: a Guide to Nature_

It wasn't like the other stories Haseul has read, the countless fiction novels she's stuck her nose in, delved into the lives of the protagonists and sympathize with all characters. It was almost weirder, as if it were talking to her and teaching her. The author didn't seem to include a storyline either, just little paragraphs about flowers and how to plant them. She chuckled, the author must have been new to storytelling. It was like a real life story, something she can really do and participate in. She liked it, though. It was sweet.

 _Chrysanthemum_ , her thumb caressed. _Stargazer Lily. Daffodil. Sweet Pea. Dahlia._

And beneath each pretty-sounding word was a tutorial on how to take care of the flowers. Haseul grinned. She wanted all of these flowers.

But by far, the prettiest one was the pale, delicate one called _gardenia_. Haseul read about its pleasant scent, how they can be difficult to maintain, how they symbolize purity and sweetness and indicate a secret love. Her eyes were wide as they scanned curious and fervently at the words on the paper. She looked out her window, her entire room gone incredibly dim, the moon letting the snow glisten and bask in its elegant luminance. How each snowflake fell onto the ground like paper descending gracefully from the air.

Closing the book, she shoved it behind her pillow and pulled her blankets over herself, smiling knowing joy grows greater by day.

\---

Throughout the entire winter, Haseul went outside to enjoy the environment she's been deprived of her entire life. She can't recall ever being more alive. Her mother would fill Haseul's cold body with warm tea each time she came back in, and Haseul would go to bed each night happier than the last.

This was life, wasn't it?

Haseul giggled, because she loved it. She loved being alive.

As the snow melted, Haseul noticed her mother's weakening posture, her growing inability to do the things she's once done with Haseul with the slightest of ease. She no longer made her tea. She no longer greeted Haseul by the door with her warm hands. Her hands now felt cold in Haseul's, even as the spring sun came to life.

Haseul knocked on her mother's door.

"Come in," she heard.

Opening the door carefully, she shut it softly behind her after entrance. She observed how her mother laid flat against the bed, not curled up like she used to. She looked at the wheelchair in the corner of the room, the one they've kept when Haseul needed to get her somewhere in the house.

"Haseul," her mother whispered, causing Haseul to walk closer to her, standing right beside her bed, looking down at her mother, illness now so very clear to her. Haseul frowned. She wished her mother told her. "I'm sorry I haven't been the same. I'm afraid I've... got a cold."

Haseul quickly denied it with the shake of her head. "No, no, mother... You're very sick. It isn't a cold. I need to get you medicine," she claimed urgently.

Her mother only laughed. "It is okay. I am old now, while you are still very beautiful... my beautiful daughter..."

Haseul fought away the frown, she didn't want her mom to feel sad, even if she felt disappointed that her mom wouldn't tell her about such an event like this.

"Before I die," her mother began, head turning slowly to look at her youthful daughter. She smiled upon the sight of her, reaching out to brush Haseul's hair away from her face. She missed that kind of youth, the lively glow that she once carried being decayed and decomposed to match the age she is now. She couldn't express enough how happy she was to see her beautiful daughter shine like that, so brightly. Even when she held back tears of negativity that portrayed her dejection, beauty and love exuded from her. She loved her precious daughter more than anything else in the world. "I want you to see the ocean. With me. This one last time," she muttered, looking at Haseul through her teary eyes.

Instantly, Haseul obliged, "Of course, Mom. Anything."

Her mother emitted a soft chuckle, using her energy to push herself up from her position on the bed. "The ocean is beautiful, Haseul. You are going to love it, I promise," she informed heartwarmingly, a small smile never leaving her face. Haseul loved that so much about her. No matter what, she was always happy when she was around her. Throughout any circumstance, she would glisten in Haseul's company. She knew how much she meant to her mother. And she reciprocated those feelings too, she knew. She didn't know how to live without her. She still couldn't process how she was lucky enough to ever be her daughter in the first place.

"You want to go... now?" Haseul suggested carefully, voice soft, afraid that if she talked too loud her voice will display her weakness. The topic of death never had Haseul afeared, never had her shaking with the thoughts of the uncertainty of what comes after. She never knew true fear until she was forced to face it.

And there it was, sitting sweetly before her: her sweet, dying mother. She would be infinitely lost without her, of this she was certain.

Her mother looked out the window, nodding. "We should go now, while the sun is still alive in the sky."

Haseul smiled hard enough to force the tears she's been fighting to keep in her eyes out, sliding warmly over each of her cheeks. She turned away quickly, grabbing her mom's wheelchair and driving it to the bed where her mother could get in. As she waited, she did her best to wipe away her sadness from her cheeks, shutting her eyes and inhaling slowly.

As she opened her eyes again, her mom was already seated in the wheelchair. She exhaled shakily, hands wobbly as they clutched the handlebars as tight as they could. She felt weaker than normal, even her knees shook as she pushed her mother out the room and towards the front door of the house. She pushed the thoughts of what in the world she would do without her to the back of her head. She can't have those thoughts right now. She wanted her mother to be happy.

As she drove her mother to the end of their driveway, she looked down at her. She was smiling. Of course she was, and because of that, Haseul smiled too.

"Where do I go next?" Haseul's voice was honey-like as she asked.

"Just keep going down the hill until you see sand," her mother answered.

Haseul nodded, although her mother couldn't see it. It was weird to be walking so far away from home. This was the furthest she's ever gone, she was sure. She couldn't hear her shoes tapping against the road against the rough rolling of her mother's wheelchair, the hill luckily not steep enough to be afraid of anything happening. 

The walk felt longer than it should have. But Haseul clung onto every moment so desperately. She admired the green grass that ran along either side of the rocky path she strolled down upon, she looked at the trees with little blossoms blooming shades of pink and white from each thin branch. How other trees had buds that twirled as they fell from the tree, landing on the grass and the path. The flowers that sprung from the ground to the welcoming earth, mother nature decorating each one with femininity and color, some holding more vibrancy than others. Some flowers she could recognize, like the hibiscuses and magnolias, standing gracefully and swaying gently against the soft wind. The afternoon sun didn't offer much warmth, but the breeze felt warm on Haseul's skin, her hair agreeing with the wind to fly in the direction it blows.

If Haseul closed her eyes, she could see it. See the world, open for her to explore. Letting her understand its delicacies, all the opportunity it holds for her. She could see herself meeting the person she was meant to be with, caring for the daughter of her own in the future like how her mother cared for her. She could see herself kissing her head every night, singing her the soft songs that once lulled herself to sleep, holding her tiny hand in her own. Watching her grow up to be the woman Haseul raised her to be, with the generosity of the sun to the Earth, the strength of a crack of lighting crashing towards the ground, the kindness that Haseul bestowed to her from the day she first lived onwards.

Soon, dirt turned into sand and it became more difficult to push her mother through the new terrain, and there it was, waiting in the distance; the ocean that crashed onto the sand, bluer than the water she knew of at her house, but still very clear. Now grinning and excited to uncover this new exploration, she went as fast as she could until they were right there, by the water. Quickly, she took off her shoes, wanting to feel the water under her skin.

The water felt cold against Haseul's toes, but it made her feel alive, a jolt of what felt like electricity spreading throughout her body, adrenaline oozing from her body. Her mother smiled so warmly as she watched Haseul get to know the ocean, interested by its freezing cold against her skin, interested by the sound of it crashing on the shore and sliding back to the rest of the ocean, interested by its salty scent, absorbing all the newness of it with a grin.

"Mom!" Haseul exclaimed, laughing at the feeling of the sand being dragged beneath her feet with the tide. "Mom, it's so nice! I wish you could feel the water, too. It's funny, kind of."

Her mom laughed, hands resting on her chest, feeling how her chest bounced just like it did when she was a child, her giggling at the ocean and her discovery of it, just like how Haseul is now. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes," Haseul confirmed. "I want to go here every day."

"Then you may," Haseul's mother announced.

Haseul looked to her mother, eyebrows furrowing as she bit the inside of her cheeks hard to keep the wide smile from spreading across her face, eyes pooling with the same warmth as before, but this time, with joy. She was eternally grateful for everything her mother did. Even if she wasn't given the childhood every other kid had, she was okay. She loved her mother endlessly, unconditionally.

"Thank you," Haseul whispered, almost inaudible to her mother's ears, but she understood. She understood so well, her gratitude. She was grateful for Haseul every day. She wished she could go back and change some things, give Haseul the things she deserved in life. Give her a better home. Give her the toys every other child desired. Give a little more than she always supplied, because she deserved it. If only she could. If only she could change the times, turn back the clocks, but she couldn't, and she would have to die knowing she couldn't give her child enough. Because wish is a word for the things that you yearned, but regret transcends each desire that builds it. She knew by this point the disappointment of wishing against the past.

"I am so happy you are my daughter," her mother suddenly spoke, looking Haseul straight in the eyes. "Please... let your children live the life I failed to give you. Give them the joy I prevented you."

Haseul exhaled, nodding. "I will. And it's okay. I couldn't have imagined having a better mom, even if given the dream life."

"I'm sorry," her mom apologized, heart full of hurt. "But I know you will learn from my mistakes, Haseul. You are the reason I kept fighting my ailment for so long. I'm sorry that I couldn't fight longer," she admitted, lowering her head. "I promise you, the world is within your heart. You are exactly the daughter I wanted you to be. I couldn't have been more proud. I love you."

Haseul smiled. She felt her heart swell and break at the same time, knowing how much she regretted not being the mother to Haseul that she wanted to be. She couldn't say anything. No words fell from her mouth. Only the biggest smile Haseul had ever wore responded to her mother's words.

But quickly, her smile began to shake, eyes shutting as she ran over to her mom, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, kneeling to be at her sitting height. Her mother was taken by surprise, but felt her heart warm as she let her arms complete the embrace, smiling against Haseul's skin. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to do it all over again, to greet her for the first time, to guide her through her childhood, this time, like she wished she could. She felt her heart glow in a way she hasn't felt before, her body weak but heart strong.

"I love you too, Mom," she felt her daughter whisper. "I love you too."

"Will you sing to me, my daughter? I want to go to heaven as I listen to your pretty voice..."

Haseul didn't know how well she'd be able to sing while tears streamed from her eyes, but she easily accepted her request anyway. Anything for her dear mother. Her mother that she wished she could help. She cleared her throat, trying her best to serenade her mom with a song she's heard her play on her record player when she was younger. It was the song she remembered the two of them dancing to, the song she used to sing when she was younger, join her mother for duets, even if they didn't sound the best.

Her mother allowed herself to stop battling her sickness, smiling as she let nature do what nature must. She wanted to go happily, and it couldn't have been a happier way for her to leave the world, she knew it as she listen to Haseul's sweet voice, even when it broke through her tears. She let her head fall onto her daughter's shoulder, letting her body become limp. Maybe love itself wasn't the word to put it when it came to Haseul. Forever she would be her mother, and that itself- what a mother is to a daughter- is so beyond love. Even as she felt her body give in, she loved Haseul. Even as her thoughts shut down for the final time, she loved Haseul. Her heart beat for her, and even as it stops, she will love Haseul. Haseul is always her daughter, and not even death can take that away.

Haseul didn't stop singing until she finished the entire song, even when her voice strained with the need to yell out and mourn her mother, even when it became too unbearable to open her eyes.

"Mom," she hugged her mother's unresponsive body as if it could still feel and hear her. She couldn't say anything else, not when her tears preventing any coherent words from leaving her mouth.

That was it, she knew, the last time her mother would ever say 'I love you'. The last time she'd hug her. When she entered their house again, it wouldn't be theirs. It would be hers. There would be no more coming inside to warm smiles and kind words. No more singing old songs with her mother and dancing around the living room. No more laughing at her jokes that weren't even funny, no more book recommendations or making meals for two people. Now, she would have to read alone, with no one to talk about her stories to. And it just wouldn't be the same dancing to her mom's songs without her. It wouldn't be the same singing them alone. Nothing would ever be like they used to be anymore.

"I won't let you down," Haseul promised, squeezing her cold hand. She gained the strength to pull away and look at her, how she can rest peacefully and painlessly now. It was supposed to be better this way, but with the way Haseul's heart is caving in, it doesn't feel like it. She still wants to have her mother- alive and well- by her side forever, for she truly had no one else. She was completely alone now.

Her mom always warned her about the dangers of the world. But maybe it was time for Haseul to suck it up and explore it, for real, this time. Not just her backyard or this beach. She knew her mother would want to be by the ocean for the rest of her life, even if it wasn't really life anymore, and so she let her stay there.

Tears felt like acid on Haseul's skin, sobs escaping her throat before she could catch them, running fast to her home and forgetting about her shoes that she left on the sand. She ran, ran like it was going to help her stop crying, ran like she's never ran before until she arrived at her house, opening the door hastily and slamming it shut behind her.

She yelled, let a piercing scream rip out of her throat, not caring who hears anymore. Not caring if she breaks her voice, not caring about anything. Because the only thing she ever fucking cared about was ripped away from her, taken without a second thought. Her body curled in on itself, too weak to stand up straight anymore, collapsing against the floor. She balled up her fists, hitting the wooden tiles as hard as she could, bruising her hand and splitting her knuckles.

She wailed, voice unwilling to give out before she expressed her feelings. She gripped her hair, pulling it hard as if trying to reclaim her sanity. She couldn't breathe properly, instead she took in jagged breaths, letting them out in her complaints addressed to nobody.

She couldn't even get up. She's never felt so pathetic and useless in her life, even falling asleep on the cold floor of her kitchen. She was tired. She didn't want to wake up in the morning, just wanted to sleep and forget about her mother.

\---

Haseul had a pounding headache when she woke up. For the third day in a row, she's gotten little more than an hour of sleep. At least she could push herself to her room in the meantime, now laying on her bed. She hasn't touched her books for what felt like forever, and she was still too tired to do so. She couldn't be bothered to do anything she used to enjoy. She knew her mother wouldn't like this. She just knew.

So against her own will, she pulled herself out of bed, her feet touching the soft carpet beneath her. She walked slowly down the stairs and to the front door, where she wore her mother's jacket. It still smelt like her. Haseul almost smiled at that.

She opened the door and met the outdoors that she hasn't seen for three days, the air not as lively as it used to feel. The grass didn't feel the same beneath her feet anymore, how she once enjoyed the feel of the nature beneath her soles now felt scratchy and unwanted. But she had left her shoes by the ocean, where her mother's body still sat, lifeless. She cleared her throat, tired from crying, to the point where she just couldn't anymore- couldn't sob or whine, only able to mourn her mother through her remorseful silence.

Her mother would want her to smile, but as her feet walked slowly on the dirt path she found herself unable to. Even the thought of confronting her dead mother made Haseul feel sick to the stomach. Throwing an arm over her own torso, she continued walking, fighting the urge to run back home and never step foot outside again.

She sucked in a large breath once her foot became buried in the rocky sand, staring at the ground for longer than necessary, holding onto her sanity while she still could, reminding herself to breathe, reminding herself that her mom wants her to be happy. Exhaling slowly through her nose, she continued, slow steps advancing to the loudening sounds of the waves, more vicious than they were the last time she had seen them. She didn't notice how her eyes were closed until she opened them in shock by the cold splashing of the waves against her ankles.

Curiously, she swung her head to the side, seeing her mom still there, just a little walk away. She didn't know whether to frown or smile. She could only stare at her mother, whose figure sat still in her wheelchair, eyes closed as if she were just dreaming. Haseul hoped she was dreaming the sweetest dreams, forever and always, no longer willing to ignore her mother's existence like she has for the past few days, trying to forget rather than accept.

But before she moved, she swore she saw somebody else. Someone walking along the shore, Haseul could swear, she could see them if she squinted. They were far away, but they were there. As they moved closer, Haseul could determine it was a girl; it was a girl with long brown hair and a slim figure. She kept staring, trying to determine more of her details until the girl caught her, head rising up and staring right back at her, and it felt like holes were being burned into Haseul's skin under her heavy gaze. Quickly, she looked down, back at her bare feet still submerged in water, contemplating on whether it was appropriate to run away now or not. She could hear her getting closer, hear her stepping in where the water was most shallow, hear her advancing in her direction.

Haseul bit her lip, holding onto her arms, nails scratching into her arms as she hoped she was only dreaming, prayed she was just seeing things. She gasped when she felt the barely-there tap upon the skin of her shoulder, feeling vulnerable as she stood there in her tank top and its inadequate abilities to keep her warm beside the freezing breeze of the spring ocean.

"Hello?" Her voice was gentle, like she was scared to speak to Haseul. "Are you... Is that someone you know?" The girl pointed to Haseul's mom. Haseul knew that the girl already knew. Even before Haseul nodded in response, she knew the girl knew.

"You are... Haseul?" She spoke carefully, afraid to frighten Haseul away.

At that, Haseul's head immediately lifted up, staring incredulously at the girl before her. She could see her so much better this way, but that was the last thing on her mind when all she could think of was how the hell she knew her name.

"Your mom told me," she answered before Haseul could ask. It wasn't like Haseul was going to ask, her voice proving itself to be too weak as she couldn't get anything out after opening her mouth to speak. She only stared at the girl's eyes before she spoke again. "I'm Kahei."

"Kahei," Haseul repeated in a whisper, voice appearing suddenly. The way it rolled off her tongue felt familiar. "Who are you?" Haseul asked with more confidence now.

"Your mom knew my mom. They were friends," Kahei explained. "You know me?"

"Your name sounds familiar," Haseul confessed.

"We've never met."

"I know."

"We've never seen each other."

"I know," Haseul repeated.

Kahei hummed, "Hm. Your mom might've talked about me. All good things?"

"I don't know. Don't remember."

Kahei just stood there, unsure of what to say next. She didn't want to be left with an awkward silence. "I'm sorry about your mom, by the way," she expressed her sorrow, looking down at her fidgeting hands.

"It's okay," Haseul sighed. "Not your fault."

Kahei nodded, biting her lip. It was quiet for a minute before she spoke again. "My mom died a few years ago."

Haseul nodded, she understood. And Kahei must've understood her, too. She couldn't find much to say about the topic, finding herself looking back at her mother.

"Old age," Kahei continued with a long sigh. "It's just my dad and I now. You too, right?"

Haseul shook her head in denial, eyes void of emotion as she still stared at her mom, hearing Kahei's words but only half-listening.

"What?" Kahei asked softly.

"Don't have a dad," Haseul clarified easily.

"Oh." Kahei frowned at the thought. "Sorry."

"Eh. Whatever," Haseul mumbled with a shrug.

"So you're all alone now?" Kahei questioned.

"Guess so. I'll be okay."

Kahei nodded. "..Are you okay?"

Haseul didn't really know how to respond, only shrugged once again. She couldn't say she was fine, but she didn't need a stranger to get involved with her emotions.

"Things happen. One day you'll be back on your feet," Kahei promised with a friendly pat on Haseul's shoulder. "It takes time."

Haseul looked back at her. "Thanks," she muttered, and she couldn't even tell how she was smiling. Even if it was the smallest, slightest smile- it was there. It was an improvement.

Kahei let her hand rest on Haseul's shoulder, looking into her eyes with what Haseul recognized as sincerity, the kind her mother looked at her with when she promised her the things she did. She hoped this was the same kind, that she was speaking truthfully, that she can look at her mother and smile again one day. To remember her for her bests, and take her flaws and faults as motivation to improve.

Haseul almost forgot why she came down to the beach, but suddenly remembered once again after seeing the black pair of shoes by her mom's side, toes of the shoes wet with the water splashing onto them. Wordlessly, she walked past Kahei and made her way to her shoes, putting them on one foot at a time slowly, trying to disregard the slight dampness touching the tips of her toes.

She looked up at her mother, so peaceful and motionless. She wanted to believe she was happier this way, to be painless and free. Truly free, for the only time one is beyond the boundaries of confinement is when they cease to live in the world where every other human exists in; where a human is only human, and life is only life, all until it is released to blossom into the colorful petals of finality, where the alive go to rest forever. And whatever the wherever may be, it is always certain that freedom is a concept unleashed only upon the resolution of mortality.

But after mortality, one thing will transcend: love. Haseul was so aware of this, she knew. When she took her mother's unmoving, unresponsive hand into her own, even when it didn't react slightly to her touch- far warmer than the cold of her mother's palms- she still knew there was love there. Still knew that her hand is still the same one that had once held her own. And if her heart were to continue beating, she would shower Haseul with the love of a true mother to her daughter, the love that travels beyond humanity. Haseul should find greatness within that, instead of the sadness that surfaces it.

And she looked once again at her mother's face, that no longer lit up at the sight of her, her face that changed alongside the years that aged it. Her face that didn't wear the kind smile it always did, flaunting instead an emotionless expression. Yet Haseul could find so many emotions in it, sparking a warmth in her chest and peace in knowing that while her mother will never return to her again, she will be the most important part of her life- the part that built her and raised her, the part that taught her what to expect and what to give, the part that taught her what love is and is not. She taught her the most important lessons of them all, but of course she wasn't perfect. But Haseul was ready to fix those things. She was ready to meet people and see things, travel and explore, see the world and do it all.

"Kahei," Haseul called, twisting her head to look at said girl. "Do you know what a shop is?"

Kahei scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Yeah? I mean, everyone does."

"Sorry," Haseul apologized. "I didn't mean it like you're stupid or anything. I meant, like- I've never been to one- I've, uh, never really been out far from my house."

"What? Really?" Kahei's eyes widened in disbelief. "Well what did you do your entire life??"

Haseul shrugged, standing up to walk over to Kahei. "I read a lot. I actually love reading," she started, motioning with her hand for Kahei to follow her as she walked to the dirt path, planning to return home now that she's retreated her shoes. "But I liked to sing sometimes, and dance... I would have these concert kind of things with her when she played her music. I miss it, really."

"Wow. So you really never went to a mall or anything? Not even the grocery store?" Kahei inquired.

"No," Haseul denied. "My mom didn't even let me out of the house until I turned eighteen. It was so fun, though. I wish I could feel that same joy again, when I first stepped outside. Or when I first saw snow."

"Gosh," Kahei laughed. "You've never seen snow until recently?"

Haseul nodded, elaborating, "I suppose you wouldn't remember your first time outside, so maybe I sound dumb, but... I don't know, seeing snow was magical to me. It's like getting a thousand new books."

"Hm," Kahei hummed, not saying anything more.

Haseul realized how much she appreciated having company once she arrived at her house. She looked back at Kahei, feeling the need to shoot her a small smile. "Um, thanks for talking to me. Really helped me, a lot. Thank you."

"There's really no need to thank me," Kahei insisted. "I like talking to you."

Haseul felt her cheeks heat and she looked away from Kahei's eyes at the sudden compliment. "Y-yeah?"

Kahei laughed, "Yeah."

"Do you..." Haseul began, looking back at Kahei. "Maybe, want to talk again tomorrow?"

Kahei smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow," she repeated, mostly to herself. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Great," Haseul couldn't help herself from smiling. It was so weird to smile again, after thinking she was unable to just an hour ago. But it was nice. "I'll be at the beach then, same time."

"Well... see you then," Kahei promised, walking away. Haseul nodded, even though Kahei couldn't see, and didn't move from her spot on the road until she could no longer see Kahei, admiring how comfortable she was around her.

And when she went inside, it felt like the air became lighter. She put on her mother's favorite song and couldn't help but to perform it with a smile wider than she's worn in a while, feet moving to the rhythm. She forgot how much she liked this.

\---

Haseul stood there, the same place she stood yesterday on the sand as she waited for Kahei. She was pretty sure she went to the beach way too early, but she couldn't help the excitement that made her want to see her now. It was like she finally had someone in her life that wasn't family. It was like she finally had a friend- someone to tell stories to and talk endlessly with- even if they've only known each other a day.

She looked behind her, checking to see if Kahei was maybe arriving now, but she knew that plan has little hope anyway when she saw nothing but the nature in-bloom in the distance where the dirt met the sand. She looked back at the ocean and sat down by it, tracing patterns in the wet sand by her feet. Every now and then, a wave would come and erase her artistry in the sand, but Haseul continued drawing nonetheless. She drew the flowers she remembered seeing in her planting book that, now that she thought about it, she really needed to look at again.

Haseul stared at the flower she drew, the gardenia that she loved so much. As the next wave took her drawing and the ocean erased it, she wondered why she never drew more when she was a child. She found joy in making these small flowers, seeing them come to life and then wash away with the ocean waves.

She looked behind her, wearing a small smile at the sight of the girl she met yesterday only a few steps away from her. She waited to speak until she was a bit closer, staring at her instead.

She was very pretty. Haseul hasn't seen many people in her life, beside the ones on television and her mother, but she knew that Kahei could make the prettiest gardens jealous of her beauty. Self consciously, Haseul pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, looking up at Kahei who was now standing a small distance from her, smiling.

"Hi," Haseul greeted, waving one of her hands.

Kahei giggled, "Hey." She sat down beside Haseul, looking at her instead of the waves in front of them. Haseul felt her heart warm at that, how she chose to fully pay attention to her. This is what having a friend is like, isn't it?

"How've you been?" Haseul questioned, resting her head in her arms that laid on her knees.

"Good, I guess. Not much has really happened since I last saw you," Kahei answered simply. "I thought I was going to come here a little early and wait for you, but you were already here, so I guess we had the same plan." Kahei laughed at that, finding it funny that they both thought of it.

"Hm," Haseul hummed, nodding. "I like the beach. It was okay waiting here for you. And, I couldn't wait to see you," Haseul confessed with a smile.

"Oh, really?" Kahei smiled gratefully. She was happy Haseul enjoyed her company.

Haseul nodded, staring at her for a minute Kahei spoke again. "You look better today. Did you sleep well?"

Now that Haseul thought about, she did sleep better than she has for the last few days. So she responded with a smile, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. And thanks... for the compliment."

Kahei shrugged it off, leaving the two in a comfortable silence, where Kahei picked at her nails and Haseul watched her. Haseul looked over to the ocean, staring at it, wondering about its depths. She remembered reading somewhere that only five percent of it has been discovered. She thought that was kind of weird, seeing how so much of the above sea Earth is still so new to her, while below sea level Earth is completely new to anyone who finds it.

"Hey," Kahei began, looking at Haseul again and drawing her out of her thoughts. "Do you have a phone?"

Haseul scrunched her eyebrows, confused. "Uhh... like, a house phone?"

"No," Kahei shook her head. "A mobile one." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, showing it to Haseul. Haseul stared at it for a second, so curious about this new technology.

"No, I don't have one of those," Haseul answered, still staring at the phone, hesitantly bringing her hands up to take it in her hands. "I have a house phone."

Kahei shrugged. "Whatever, I was just asking so I could text you or something. Your mom never got you a phone? What about a laptop?"

"No. I had a TV," Haseul responded. She thinks she remembered hearing her mom talk about the media-obsession of people nowadays, but can't recall exactly.

"Ah." Kahei nodded, understanding. She clicked a button on her phone that made the black screen light up, displaying a picture of her and someone else- maybe her mom, considering the age of the woman and how young Kahei looked- along with the time. "It's almost three in the afternoon. My dad isn't home until later, either, and I can drive. He has two cars... so, I was thinking... do you want to go somewhere? Since you've never been to the mall or anything."

Haseul's eyes lit up, and she had to bite back a grin. "R-really?!"

Kahei laughed, seeing her so excited. "Of course."

"Let's go, oh my god!" Haseul squealed, a certain adrenaline rushing through her veins at the thought of it. How many people will she see? Will it be like how it is in the movies, where there are hundreds of people in one building? Will she eat something that wasn't from her home? Now that she thought about it, her mom wouldn't be able to buy groceries anymore anyway, so Haseul would have to! She really couldn't stop herself from sprinting her way down the dirt path, not knowing where Kahei's house is but not thinking of it either.

Kahei was trying her best to keep up with the girl who, if anyone else saw her, looked like she was on some crazy drug high. "Haseul! Wait! My house is-" Kahei was too focused on speaking that when Haseul came to an abrupt stop, she didn't notice, accidentally running into her, crashing them both to the ground.

"Ow," Haseul complained, face scrunching in pain. Luckily, she put her hands out before her face could hit the pavement, but she could feel how she cut gashes into her palms and knees.

She looked over at Kahei, who seemed more shocked that Haseul fell than anything. She looked for any cuts on her, but found nothing. "Are you okay?!?" Kahei checked immediately. "I'm so sorry, oh my gosh."

"It's fine," Haseul sighed, painfully standing back up, feeling how blood began to trickle down one of her knees. "Where's your house?"

"Right here," Kahei answered, pointing behind Haseul. Haseul looked back, seeing the house she stood in front of. Nodding, she began walking towards it, ignoring the uncomfortable bleeding in her knees and hands.

Kahei opened the door for both of them, allowing Haseul to enter first, shutting the door behind them. "Sit down, I'll go get you some bandages," she directed, not leaving until Haseul was seated in one of the kitchen chairs.

Haseul looked around, seeing pictures on the wall and a bowl of fruit in front of her. She stared at the array, feeling her stomach rumble. She hadn't even eaten today, opting to wait for Kahei by the beach instead. She bit her lip, looking away from the food and instead at the redness of her knees, one more scraped than the other. She opened her hands, looking at the inky red oozing from them, wanting to wipe it off but having nowhere to do so. She could only keep them raised in the air and pray that her blood didn't get on anything.

"I'm back," Kahei announced, kneeling before Haseul. She let all the things she held in her arms down, Haseul's eyes widening at how much stuff there was. Whenever she got hurt at home, a simple bandaid supported the cut well enough. She watched Kahei pour something onto a cotton ball and gently dab it onto Haseul's knee, causing Haseul to hiss in pain.

"Sorry," Kahei apologized. "It's to disinfect the wound." She continued with her actions, a bit more careful this time. Haseul had to bite her lip to keep herself from letting any hint of pain or discomfort slip from her lips, letting Kahei continue without disruption.

It stung the worst on her palms, but when she opened her eyes, it was over. Kahei was reaching for a cloth sort of thing and began wrapping it around Haseul's knees. "What's this?" Haseul asked.

"Bandage wrap. My dad's a doctor," Kahei explained, now wrapping it around Haseul's hands. "I learned from him."

"Oh, that's cool," Haseul commented. Kahei finished wrapping Haseul's hand and stood up, gathering everything she brought out and walking away wordlessly. Curious, Haseul followed her, wanting to see all the medical stuff she had. She opened the bathroom door wide enough for both of them and entered, dropping everything into a large basket next to the sink. Haseul looked at all the things, not even sure what most of them were.

"Are we still going to the mall?" Haseul asked when Kahei looked at her.

Kahei shook her head. "Sorry. Wait until you heal up," she said. They just stood there, the silence more awkward than it used to feel. Kahei sighed, "You should probably go home now. Get some rest, y'know."

"Okay," Haseul accepted. She backed up a step, still looking at Kahei. "Um, bye. See you tomorrow?"

Kahei nodded. "I'll just come over your house. You're probably not in the condition to be walking too far."

"It's only a few scrapes. I'm not ill or anything. We can go somewhere tomorrow. Please?" Haseul pleaded.

Kahei, unable to decline, obliged, "Sure. See you then."

\---

Haseul's eyelids fluttered open with the morning sun, and rested in her arms was the open book that she decided to look at again before night. Tiredly, she moved her stiff arm, still half-asleep, to close it and slide it a little away from her. She brought her hands to her eyes and placed her palms over them, rubbing gently to wake herself up, feeling the rough material of the bandage wrap instead of the smooth comfort of her skin. She let her fingers tangle in her hair at her scalp as her eyes adjusted to the light, looking over across the room to her clock.

Sitting up, she swung her feet onto the carpet and looked at her bandaged knees. Her index finger traced over the material, still fighting off sleep. She was supposed to go with Kahei to the mall today, she remembered with a smile, the motivation she needed to finally get up and get ready. Even if it was only nine in the morning.

She looked at herself in her mirror, noting that she really needed to brush her hair well today. She pulled the loose shirt she wore over her head, throwing it into the basket (or what she hoped was the basket, considering she threw it carelessly over her shoulders) in the corner of her room.

Was it going to be warm today? Wait- no- is the mall warm? It must be, there's so much body heat from all the people. But are there really that many people who go to the mall?? What if it's just something depicted on television, like how they make vampires real. Or- are vampires real?! Haseul's head hurt as it swam with questions.

She decided a modest dress would be fine, and if it were cold then she'd learn for the next time. Would there even be a next time though? What if she embarrasses herself- embarrasses Kahei?! She wouldn't be able to live with herself! She changed into jeans and a sweater, one she thinks she wore a few days ago but never put into her laundry basket. But maybe it's too hot for a sweater. Okay, okay- a t-shirt must do, then. _No more changing, Haseul_ , she told herself. _This is what you'll wear._

It took longer than usual to brush all the knots from her hair, debating internally on whether to put it up or keep it down. She put a hair band on her wrist just in case.

She looked in the bathroom for perfume, she could've sworn her mother used to have some. She smiled, remembering the sweet scent of what she thought smelt like gardens and honey- of course, she's never really smelt a garden, but she assumed.

She stared at the bottles of make up her mother used to wear that were in the drawer for _for sure_ more than a decade. Sighing, she supposed that deodorant would have to do for now, hopefully masking any bad scent she might've displayed. She ran down to the kitchen, seeing what she could make for breakfast. Of course, there was always cereal or pancakes to heat up in the toaster. She wondered if Kahei liked sugary or wheat-y cereals, or if she liked cereal at all. Her heart warmed at the thought of her, thinking that having a good friend was something she'd never take for granted.

She always read about the female protagonists and their girl friends in the books, always wishing that one day she'd have a bond like that too. And then the girls meet the boy of their dreams, but Haseul didn't know about that part yet. She hasn't even seen a male in real life, she thinks. For now, she was so content with how her heart warmed with what she considered friendship at the thought of Kahei.

She didn't notice her milk overflowing from her cereal bowl until she escaped her thoughts, wide-eyed at the puddle all over the counter and floor by her feet.

"No way," Haseul gasped, screwing the cap back onto the milk carton, running to where she kept the paper towels. When there was nothing there, she ran to the napkins, grabbing as many that could fit in her hand. "What the hell..."

She sat at a safe distance by the spill, watching milk droplets fall one by one onto the puddle. She groaned, throwing the napkins at the puddle and hoping they'd absorb everything. She ran to get more, placing them on the counter, hoping her cereal wasn't getting too soggy.

And, thankful to whatever luck remained on her side, her cereal _wasn't_ too soggy when she finished cleaning. Practically inhaling it, she didn't bother cleaning out the bowl before returning to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She couldn't really hear the knocking on her door over the vibrating of her electric toothbrush her mom bought her. She only heard anything when she stopped brushing momentarily to spit the foamy toothpaste out. At the sound, she looked up at herself in the mirror, flattening her hair to her head, setting her toothbrush- still foamy- on the counter. Quickly, she ran over to the front door, eager to see-

"Kahei!" Haseul shouted with glee as she opened the door, smiling so hard her eyes were forced closed.

The guy at the other side cleared his throat, causing Haseul's smile to quickly vanish and her face to flush in embarrassment.

She didn't mean to be rude, but... were all men this unappealing?

"Are you Jo Haseul?" His voice rang through her ears.

It wasn't that he was ugly. But Kahei was so much prettier.

"Yes," Haseul answered, nodding once. "That would be me."

"Ah... Well, Haseul... We are.. sorry.. to inform you, but your mother-"

"Is dead. I'm aware. It's okay," Haseul finished for him. She could at least mention it without bawling now, that was a plus. "Why are you here? Not to be mean."

He blinked. "Well.. I was supposed to ask if you have any information on the cause of her death. She was found by the ocean, in a wheelchair, if that helps."

Haseul deadpanned, "Information. Right. She was sick, and that's all. Please, in the nicest way possible, I really don't wish for your company right now, someone important is coming over very soon."

Wordlessly, the man left. At least Haseul supposed, when she shut the door before he could reply.

She waited a few minutes before hearing another knock on the door, this time just finishing brushing her teeth. She approached the door less excitedly this time, just in case it _wasn't_ Kahei.

"Hi, Haseul," the sweet voice greeted, instantly spreading a smile across Haseul's face.

"Kahei," Haseul responded.

"Ready for the mall?" Kahei reminded, dangling car keys in her hand.

Haseul nodded immediately, stepping outside and closing the door. "More than ready."

She held in a breath as Kahei took her hand, leading her to the car parked in her driveway. Haseul opened the car door that led to the passenger seat, stepping in and buckling herself in. She's seen this so many times in movies, people driving in cars, and finally she'll get to experience it, too. She smiled as she watched Kahei get in her door, starting up the car.

Kahei drove out of the driveway, eyes locked on the road as the car went a bit faster. Haseul giggled, loving this so much. When Kahei pressed a button, the radio came on, playing a song Haseul didn't recognize. It sounded a lot more instrumental-based than the songs her and her mother listened to, but it was still interesting to hear.

"What's the mall like?" Haseul found herself asking, looking out her window, not able to see things well before they zoomed past.

"It's fun. Lots of people like going there, it has shops for everything," Kahei informed.

"What kind of shops?" Haseul inquired.

"Clothes, toys, games... Food," Kahei listed, trying to think of them.

"Hmm. What store do you like going to?"

Kahei thought for a second. "I guess I like the mattress ones. I just like laying on them, y'know?" Kahei laughed, looking over at Haseul for a second before looking back at the road. Haseul's heart felt like gush at the way Kahei's eyes shined when she laughed, with genuine happiness. Haseul was giddy in knowing Kahei was happy to go to the mall with her as much as Haseul was. "But I like any store, really."

Haseul nodded. "I can't wait!! How much longer?!"

Kahei giggled at Haseul's impatience, "Probably fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen??" Haseul repeated.

"Yes," Kahei confirmed with a small laugh. "You'll survive, Haseul."

Haseul loved the way her name sounded falling off of Kahei's tongue, she made it sound so much sweeter. She looked forward, seeing many more cars now, all driving really fast. Faster than Haseul could run, certainly.

She watched the clouds move in the sky and the trees that hadn't even regrown their leaves yet pass by, hoping that time could just move faster this once. She looked back at Kahei, still focused on the road, but their car at a stop now.

"Why aren't we moving?" Haseul asked, seeing how there was a whole line of unmoving vehicles. She even saw a motorcycle!

"Traffic light. Has to be there or else everyone will crash. So we have to wait for others to pass and when it signals that we go, them we go," Kahei explained, car moving slowly as cars began to move in front of theirs.

"So we're almost there?" Haseul held her breath, not wanting to be met with disappointment.

"Almost there," Kahei promised.

And they were, because as Haseul was about to speak again, Kahei parked her car, immediately stepping out the door. Haseul took off her seatbelt and followed Kahei's direction, jogging up to her side.

"This is it?" Haseul asked looking at the giant building. It was much bigger than her house. Probably more than two or three times it.

"Yeah," Kahei said, opening the door leading into the mall. Haseul wanted to scream out in joy, but held it in her chest, lungs expanding with how much air she took in. "Oh my god," Haseul whispered breathlessly to Kahei, who grinned at her reaction.

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Cool?!" Haseul repeated. "It's... It's great!" She broke out into a big smile, hugging Kahei tightly, taking her by surprise. Kahei's arms raised slowly to wrap around Haseul in return. "Thank you, Kahei."

"Yeah..." She muttered, beneath her breath, hanging on to Haseul a little tighter. "No problem."

Haseul let go, taking Kahei's hand and enjoying the view of the mall, the extremely tall ceiling was weird but fun, and the savory scent of food invading Haseul's senses quickly. And she's so grateful, even if it's the smallest action. She's so thankful that Kahei isn't annoyed by her, that she actually tolerates her presence and even enjoys it. "Lets go to a clothes store," Haseul suggested, leading Kahei as if she knew where she was going.

"Alright," Kahei accepted. They passed by tons of stores that Haseul didn't take too much time looking at, only stopping by one with mannequins in the windows.

"Here," Haseul said, letting go of Kahei's hand and walking into the store. It was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. Haseul turned, looking at every corner of the store, jogging over to selections of bright colored dresses, monochrome shoes, sweaters and jeans that had rips and jackets longer than some of Haseul's dresses.

Her arms were full, bunches of clothes that she probably wouldn't wear more than once but loved the look of them anyway, smiling at Kahei, who followed her the entire time, picking out nothing.

"You don't like this store?" Haseul asked, noticing Kahei's empty hands.

"Not that, it's just this is your day at the mall. I don't want to buy anything," Kahei answered, causing Haseul's jaw to drop, mouth slightly agape.

"I forgot about money," Haseul confessed. She didn't bring any with her. But Kahei only shrugged, like it was no big deal.

"My dad's a doctor, like I said before. And doctors get paid- well- a lot. Get anything you want, don't worry," Kahei explained, offering Haseul a small smile.

"I'm holding at _least_ a hundred dollars in my hands!" Haseul exclaimed incredulously.

Kahei reached into her jacket pocket and brought out a small, blue credit card. "I'm holding at least ten thousand. Trust me on that one."

"There is no way you're paying for me without me paying you back!"

"Yes," Kahei insisted. "You don't even work, how would you pay me back anyway? I want to buy you things, imagine how many thousands you missed out on in your childhood! And please, it's what friends do. We're friends, aren't we, Haseul?"

Haseul stayed quiet for a moment, letting Kahei know she won with a long, drawn out sigh. "Fine. But I'm not getting anything else from this store."

"Don't you want to try those on?" Kahei asked, pointing to the dressing rooms.

"No," Haseul denied. "I'll just buy them. I know they'll fit."

"Suit yourself," Kahei stated.

They waited patiently in line before exchanging small talk with the cashier, Kahei handing the lady her credit card when asked. Haseul's eyes bulged at the price that displayed on the cash register. Once they began walking away, Kahei handing Haseul the bag, Haseul began, "150 dollars?!"

"144," Kahei corrected.

"Okay," Haseul sighed. "144. But still! Isn't that a lot?!"

"Haseul, the real world isn't as complicated as you think."

"My mom pays that much for a month of groceries! I only bought 8 things!"

"Listen, I'm not complaining, and you shouldn't be either. You deserve this, it's what friends do."

Haseul nodded, giving up. "Thank you."

They continued checking out stores, sometimes buying things, sometimes not. A video game store, smoothie store, furniture, you name it. 

"Hey," Kahei started. "A photo booth."

"Huh?" Haseul turned to where Kahei was looking, seeing a small purple booth.

"Wanna go in?" Kahei suggested. Haseul could tell Kahei wanted to.

"Yeah, let's do it."

Grabbing Haseul's wrist, she led them to the booth, Haseul setting her bags on the ground while Kahei was inserting two dollars into the money slot. There was a screen inside, and as Kahei tapped it, it responded.

"Woah," Haseul giggled.

"Ready?"

"Yes," Haseul confirmed with a nod. She could see the two of them on the screen, and she smiled. The screen told them what faces to make and they followed, pulling faces that made them laugh and let them act a little with some of them. There were five of those until the screen said _printing_ , and Kahei grabbed something that the booth must've printed. Haseul picked up her bags and followed Kahei out of the booth.

"What's that?" Haseul asked. Kahei handed one of the two rolls of pictures to Haseul, laughing upon sight of them.

"They're our pictures," Kahei said. "That's why it's called a photo booth."

Haseul paused when they stopped by a nature store.

"Here, here!" Haseul exclaimed, running into the store, not waiting for Kahei. She gasped, looking all around her, the flower pots holding flowers, little tags under each one explaining what kind of flower it is and packets of seeds to the flower.

She almost wanted to cry upon sight of each flower she recognized. She pointed at one and spoke, "Kahei, it's a dahlia! I saw it in my book!"

Kahei laughed and nodded, following the excited girl and looking at the pretty floral collections.

"Hello," a lady came up to them and greeted, a friendly smile on her face. Kahei could tell that it was obviously fake, but Haseul smiled back at her. "Is everything going alright? Do you need any help looking for anything?"

Before Kahei could decline, Haseul already started to accept. "Yes, actually- I'm looking for gardenias. They are my favorite flower. Do you happen to have them?"

"Gardenias..." she repeated, squinting in thought. "Right this way."

The lady led them across the store to the exact flower Haseul requested. "Here it is, it's really a beautiful flower. And a pack of seeds only costs twelve dollars."

"We'll take it," Haseul declared, nodding immediately. "I- uh, do you have any already planted? I don't want to do anything wrong and kill a flower."

"Of course," the lady replied. "I'll be right back!"

And she was, she came back with a pot and soil in it, a beautiful flower sticking up from the soil. She picked up an extra pack of gardenia seeds and led them over to the cash register. 

"Make sure to water these and give them lots of sunlight, okay?" The lady directed.

Kahei gave her the credit card when needed and signed something electronically. The lady handed Haseul the bag and said something along the lines of _have a nice day!_ but Haseul wasn't listening that much over the sound of her excited thoughts.

Kahei looked down at her phone. "The mall's closing in ten minutes, we should get going."

Haseul accepted, "Sure."

They walked back to where they entered in the mall and entered Kahei's car, Haseul not sure how time could have possibly passed that fast. It was already almost 10 at night.

"Is your dad home?" Haseul asked.

"Probably," Kahei said.

"Will he be mad?"

Kahei laughed, "About what?"

"How much money you spent."

"He won't notice. And even if he did, I'm sure he'd be fine. He would love you, if he ever got the chance to meet you."

"Really?" Haseul asked. "Why do you think so?"

"Well," Kahei began. "You're just a nice person. Nice to be around. Nice to others. Always nice. And very pretty," Kahei commented, making Haseul thankful it was so dark, so that Kahei wouldn't be able to see the blush on her cheeks at the compliment.

"You- You think I'm pretty?" Haseul stammered.

Kahei laughed, finding it cute. "I think you're beautiful. You have such a beautiful soul too, it's not just your appearance. You're just... amazing. I promise you. I think you're really amazing, Haseul." Haseul hid her crimson face in her hands, far too giddy at the compliments.

"I think you're pretty great too," Haseul admitted.

"Thanks," Kahei smiled.

Haseul stared at her, prettier than ever under the illumination of the moon and her stars. She was the picture perfect girl, that was her in Haseul's eyes. Too good to be true. She's heard a saying before, that the best people come into your lives when you need them the most. And when she laughed, she felt her heart skip a beat, when she smiled, Haseul wanted to give her the world, when she was by her side, Haseul knew that the saying must have been true. Because right now, the most important thing in her eyes was the girl who didn't even know it, didn't even know how much Haseul was thankful for her.

In some ways, she saved her. Saved her from the constant moping and sorrow that she'd probably still be living through if it wasn't for her, saved her heart from losing its belief of good in the world. Her mother's words came into her mind, _the world, full of thorns and bushes, can become a garden when touched by the right person_. She remembered how she was so fearful of Haseul losing her childish ways, losing the way she'd laugh at everything, losing her love for singing and dancing and reading and everything in between. But Haseul knew there was good in the world, as long as the right person made her see it. And she did, she could see it. Right there, by Kahei's side.

She wanted to give Kahei the stars, each twinkling light of appreciation and beautiful illuminance. To give her all of the nicest flowers in the world, until they wear off petal by petal and wither, when Haseul would travel the world all over again to renew her gifts. To thank her for making her heart beat like it was alive again. She was grateful for that. Grateful for her.

"Thank you," Haseul suddenly spoke.

"It's no big deal, my dad-"

"No. Thank you. For all that you've done. I don't think you know how much I appreciate you, as a friend and as a person. Thank you for showing me what it means to be alive. Thank you for showing me happiness again. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for being near me because I didn't know how much I needed it, I didn't know until I had it and I never want to let your company go. Thank you for making my heart race, for making it beat again like it has meaning. Thank you for letting me tell you anything. I think I can tell you everything. I trust you, I would trust you with my life, because I feel like it's almost yours, in a way. You made me realize so many things, thank you. Thank you for everything and thank you for staying with me. Thank you so much."

Haseul finished as Kahei pulled into Haseul's driveway, giving them time to do nothing but stare at each other. And it was better than anything Haseul could ever ask for. Kahei couldn't stop herself from smiling. Neither could Haseul, though.

"Thank you," Kahei responded, sounding choked up like she was holding back tears. "It means a lot. Thank you for giving me your company. I never thought I'd have a friend like you. And so quickly, too."

For some reason, Haseul's heart clenched at the word 'friend'. It didn't portray well enough what she considered her in her heart. She felt it, a pang in her chest, choosing to ignore it and leave it unaddressed, knowing it would ware off with some sleep. But she said nothing, only gathered her bags.

"Want to meet tomorrow?" Haseul asked, hoping that she'd say yes.

Kahei nodded. "Tomorrow."

Haseul smiled and said her goodbye, leaving the car and returning home, setting her bags carefully on the ground next to her bed. She turned on her bedside lamp, getting out her flower pot. She placed it on her windowsill beside her bed, smiling at it. It was a nice addition to her room, really. She walked to the bathroom and filled a small cup with water, returning to the flower and pouring the water into the soil. She looked once more at its beautiful white petals, stretching out, so soft to the touch, before going to sleep.

\---

"Haseul," Kahei whispered, shaking Haseul lightly by her shoulder, causing her to jolt up.

"Who-?! Oh," Haseul calmed down at the sight of Kahei. She was confused, the room was still dark. Why was Kahei here? "What time is it?"

"Four."

"In the morning?!" Haseul's eyes widened.

"Yeah," Kahei said with a nod. "My dad's not home. Too many patients I guess."

Haseul hummed, patting the bed next to her for Kahei to sit down on. She didn't want her sitting on the floor. Kahei followed, sitting down and covering her legs with the blanket. Haseul's eyes were still closed but she was completely listening, wanting to hear everything Kahei wants to say. She felt Kahei grab some of her hair, playing with it, causing Haseul's chest to clench. Her stomach, too.

"Sorry I'm over so early. It's just nice to have somebody to talk to," Kahei expressed, smiling at Haseul.

Haseul felt her stomach swirl, she felt incredibly sick suddenly. She nodded, scared to open her mouth, as if she would throw up. It felt harder to breathe, her chest tighter than before, and not because Kahei did something that made her heart warm. No, this time it was a more painful kind of grasp around her heart, like it was trying to squeeze all the blood from it. Her heart fluttered again when Kahei's thumb grazed her ear.

"And I feel like I can tell you anything," Kahei continued.

Haseul kept listening trying to ignore the swirling pain in her stomach.

"I really like you, Haseul. Thanks for being here for me. I know we haven't known each other long, but you're the best friend that I have. Best one I could ever ask for."

Suddenly, Haseul ran off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her and not even bothering to turn on the light before being thrown into a coughing fit, heat rising throughout her body, leaning over the sink. She closed her eyes tight and winced in pain, only opening them once she stopped coughing violently, wiping her mouth. She felt something, she knows she did, and immediately, she opened her eyes, wrist wearing the blood that Haseul determined she had coughed up. Immediately, she turned on the light and looked into the sink, beautiful white petals stained with the ugly, deep red honey of the body, thick blood coating the elegant flower petals. And as she squinted, they looked awfully similar to the ones on the plant she adored so dearly.

"Haseul?!" Kahei called from the other side of the door, knocking worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Haseul couldn't say anything, too stunned as she looked down at the sink, turning on the faucet to drain everything, to forget it every happened, not even sure how it happened. How did she even cough up flower petals? How is that possible? She couldn't inhale with as much ease as she once did, she noticed. It was slightly uncomfortable now. She flushed her thoughts away with the sound of the running sink, mixing with the blood an disappearing into the drain, along with the gardenia flowers.

"Haseul?? Haseul?!"

She stared at it, stared until it all drained away. She didn't know what it was from. How it was there. Didn't even know such a thing was possible.

Haseul opened the door, giving Kahei a weak smile. "Sorry."

"Haseul, what happened?! You sounded in pain!" Kahei almost shouted, reaching over to feel Haseul's forehead, checking for a fever.

"Kahei, does your dad know anything about coughing up flowers?"

Kahei suddenly paused, entire body still like a statue. "Wh-What? That's... That's not what happened, right?"

Quickly, Haseul shook her head. She was so quick to lie, it hurt. But she had to. "Just curious."

Kahei stared at her for a minute before sighing, "It's called Hanahaki. Flower petals grow in someone's lungs when they fall into a one-sided love. If it stays one-sided, they'll die."

"One-sided love..." Haseul repeated under her breath, thinking. Her eyes widened, staring right into Kahei's eyes.

She loved Kahei.

Fuck, she loved Kahei.

Suddenly, she wanted to cry. She wanted to shout, scream, yell- wanted to rip out her lungs and die. The all-too familiar feeling returned, churning her stomach as she felt her eyes well up, felt hot tears attack her eyes and she closed them tight, forcing herself to keep them in.

"Kahei," Haseul said, pained. She feel to her knees, weakly. She heard Kahei gasp before sitting down to hold her. "I don't want you to get sick. Please, go home."

"No," Kahei denied. "No, I don't care if I get sick. I want to help you. You're my friend."

Haseul's chest clenched. "Don't say that. Please." A hot tear fell down her cheek.

"Shh," Kahei hushed her, rocking Haseul in her warm, accepting arms. Arms that Haseul always felt welcome in. She sang a sweet tune, and Haseul couldn't stop crying. She couldn't.

She couldn't believe she fell in love with her only friend.

She couldn't sleep, no matter how much Kahei tried to lull her, only letting out sobs. She wouldn't answer Kahei, couldn't, not when she felt so fucking guilty that her heart was so dependent on human connection that it fell in love so easily. What a fucking fool Haseul was, she cried into Kahei's shoulder, each minute in her arms feeding her sadistic need of her company, feeding her heart so fully, planting flowers in places she couldn't even see them. She was blooming, like the spring flowers outside. Blooming like the buds on the trees, waiting to become leaves, except Haseul didn't want them. Didn't want this, didn't want something so beautiful to portray the tragedy, to constantly remind her that as she was there in Kahei's arms, only one of them felt anything from it. Only Haseul felt the electricity in her veins, the kind that makes her feel alive and want more more more, while her lungs and mind beg for her to let go. She wished she could listen. Wished she could listen to her head like a human, but she was merely a flower. A flower who's time to fully bloom was so undetermined, and she was so unready to watch herself fall. Unready to see the end of everything, meet the sweet poison of the victim of an unrequited love's death.

She wanted to love Kahei, she knows. But not like this.

She held onto Kahei like her life depended on it, when it was quite the contrary in reality. "Please, never let me go... Please don't leave me. I'm so selfish. I need you so much. Please, Kahei, I've never been so greedy in my life. I need you all the time."

Kahei said nothing, just kept hugging her. It hurt Haseul's heart infinitely. _She doesn't love you. Stop loving her._

But she couldn't, how could she when she was right there in her arms? And she wouldn't want to be anywhere else, she knew, against all her better judgement. She held Kahei tighter, afraid to lose her.

"Please need me as much as I need you, please," Haseul cried, clutching the material of Kahei's shirt so tightly in her hands like she was going to open her eyes and she'd be gone. "I'm so pathetic without you..."

"Haseul, please don't say that about yourself, you're strong and beautiful," Kahei assured her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "And I do need you. I promise."

Haseul's cries only loudened, the pain in her chest worsening. She just wanted to sleep. And so she did, she willed herself to cry herself to sleep right there in Kahei's arms. She didn't know how she was going to get over it.

\---

Haseul woke up alone, laying in her bed, probably around noon. Her face still felt wet, the pillow beside her embedded with the shape of another's head. Immediately she knew that it was Kahei. She knew. She was reminded so brutally anyway by the vicious coughing forcing its way out of Haseul's throat.

She knew Kahei didn't want to love her. Nor did she want to take care of her, that was clear when she woke up without the warm presence of the beautiful girl she so tragically loved.

She sat up, mouth pouring out blood and clumps of flower petals, falling to the ground with all its beauty pulled from it, masked with the blood that colored it into dark shades of inky red, shades she hated. She looked at her flower, tears in her eyes from her coughing fit, looking at how beautiful and royal it looked beside the hideous petals of a love that was never meant to be, there to always remind Haseul that she might've been liked, but she'd never be loved.

It was like a thousand pins being stuck into your heart at once, piercing the organ and letting it bleed out until you forget what love even is. But it was hard to forget love when love was always your source of pain. Like being told everything you've ever wanted and known has never been real, and life is merely an illusion painted by the people you happen to share it with, people who pass by you in the street and wouldn't even think of you again. People who play roles, big or small, in your life, all gone, taken away with no mercy and you're left to meet the face of loneliness, forced to look at a pain like no other in the eye forever, stare at it like you're staring at the sun until it makes your eyes burn with the tears you can't even shed because the pain is released by each tear that escapes- so you must feel the stinging, feel the hotness of your unshed tears pooling into your eyes until you must lose this unspoken staring contest and lose to a fucking _emotion_ , something that you have the control over in your life and yet they completely control you. The emotions that you feel without mercy, because almost any emotion to an extreme would get so fucking _tiring_ after a while that you'd so much rather fucking _die_ , when it all comes after you like an inescapable fear of realization that when it's over, it's _over._ That life is a long lived pain and yet it's so much better than the death that follows it; to be alive and conscious, even to be in pain and sad for your entire mortality, because the uncertainty of what follows is scarier than any amount of pain that you could be forced to feel.

Haseul grabbed the small line of paper, looking at the five small pictures of her and Kahei, their faces making Haseul want to laugh, remembering how fun it was to not care about love. To not even know she was in love. She thinks her emotions were still there, still alive just as much as they were then as they are now. And then she knew, she knew what she had to do. One last time before it was too late.

And so Haseul would chose to fight, even if she wouldn't be able to much longer, the ability to breathe becoming more and more forgotten as the flowers bloom beautifully in her lungs, turning her into the beauty she wished she was, like a cherry blossom as it blooms, and simultaneously a leaf as it falls. She smiled, tears in her eyes as she clutched her chest, coughing, blood dripping from her lip and painting her chin in dark red. She wiped her mouth, standing up, heaving for as much air as she could possibly get, so fucking difficult the longer she breathed, as she ran, ran as far and fast as she could to Kahei's house, every ounce of her body telling her no besides her heart- her heart that screamed _yes_.

"Kahei!" She yelled with all the oxygen she had in her lungs, knocking harshly on the door. "Kahei, please! Open the door!"

Suddenly, the door swung open, displaying a very stressed Kahei, who looked like she's been crying, too. "Please..." Haseul pleaded.

Kahei let Haseul enter, watching her sit in the same chair she sat in when Kahei bandaged her. Kahei stood across from her, staring at her, waiting for her to say something, anything.

"I love you," she confessed breathlessly, a new, more agonizing tightness arriving in her chest at the spoken words. But she had to. She couldn't die without saying it.

Kahei but her lip, tears escaping her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Haseul nodded, harder to breathe than ever, she could feel how to beautiful flowers bloomed, the garden she grew for her, in her lungs. She couldn't even cry, for even that required the intake of oxygen. She could only let her tears surface her eyes like glass, a glass that she'll never be able to break. "Please don't forget me."

"Never," Kahei agreed, holding both of Haseul's hands in her own.

"Kahei, please... Could you bring me to the beach? I want to see the ocean. One last time," Haseul choked out.

Kahei nodded, picking the weak girl up and bringing her to the sandy terrain as  fast as she possibly could, her tears unable to save Haseul, nothing could, and yet she still sobbed like it was the cure. Maybe she could trick Haseul into thinking she loves her. Maybe then, maybe then she won't lose her best friend.

She sat her down by the waves, sitting next to her, both of them remembering the first time they met. And they both wanted to turn back the time, to feel it again, what it was like to not be alone in this world anymore. But soon, Kahei would be so alone again. She didn't want to be. She couldn't lose Haseul. But she couldn't love her.

She heard her cough, blood pouring out slowly from her mouth, beautiful petals escaping with the stream. They fell into the ocean, drifting away, erased of the viscous crimson fluid that painted them. It was almost peaceful to watch them float away, Haseul's chest clenching with a pain unlike any other, a pain she's so okay with having if it meant being by Kahei's side in her last few moments.

"I'm so sorry," Kahei said again. She wiped the blood from Haseul's mouth with her thumb, determined to do anything she could to keep her alive. To throw away her dignity, throw away everything to prevent the loneliness she'd be met with otherwise. She'd do anything.

Inhaling quickly, she closed her eyes and connecting their lips, the metallic taste of blood making Kahei's face scrunch up, but she had to save her somehow. Surely, this would work. Surely, surely, hopefully.

If only she knew, how Haseul's lungs came to life with the most gorgeous of flowers, how they bloomed so sweetly for Kahei. How every part of Haseul's body came to life and died at the same time, her heart beating fast for her before it stopped completely. And that's when Haseul felt it: the beautiful vines that caged her heart had grown thorns, injecting the most euphoric pain throughout her body, smiling into the kiss before her lips stopped moving at all, every part of her shutting down as she truly came to life. And death could never feel sweeter, in the hands of the one who would never be your lover. But she fought it, fought for one more second, to open her eyes painfully. And even through her blurred vision, due to the tears that refused to take shelter outside of her eyes, she could see the most beautiful being in front of her. The one she can die knowing that somehow, she cared for her. And that was enough. That would always be enough.

"Thank you," Haseul whispered, practically inaudible, as she allowed her eyes to roll back, her body to fall limp in Kahei's arms, her mouth agape to let one last flower fall from her tongue.

Kahei could barely speak over her tears. "I'm so fucking sorry."

And the flower flew, from her tongue to the gentle ocean waves, gladly accepting the beauty into its body. There, it got to explore the ocean that her mother loved dearly, the ocean she loved because of Kahei. Maybe Haseul should have listened to her mom when she warned her about the unloving nature of the world. Maybe she was happy she didn't. The flower swam along the gentle waves, the emblem of the garden Haseul had given to Kahei, to sought after the love it never received.

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt edit cause i'm a lazyass lmao don't kill me if i have errors skjsjsjdjjs n e ways this was my first time writing hanahaki and idk if i even did it right i just wanted to post smth for the holidays jdjdjksks


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